Daimakaichō Buffy?
by Fellgrave
Summary: A little bit of meddling and the Scooby gang finds themselves with some very different costumes. How will Sunnydale and the beings of the Hellmouth deal with the new Ruler of Hell.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **As I promised to **Stareyed2,** so long long ago, here is my response to your challenge. For those who don't know what this challenge is, the premise being to take one of the YAHF drabbles that **Stareyed2 **wrote and turn it into a full story. Also this has been on my mind ever since I read **Hell is a Martial Artist **by **Ozzallos, **which is something I recommend reading if you haven't already, and my first few Buffy stories.

If you are familiar with manga at all, then you probably already know who it is that Buffy dressed up as. However, I am most confident that you will be suprised by the other costumes. And yes, there **was** concept art of Xander's character out and about at the time of the episode, so technically it doesn't bend time at all, even though the completed version was released later.

Minor AU as Dawn already exists as Dawn. Why? Well that will be explained later on in the story, I think... If not, well... a wizard did it... Damn Black Mage... Hey, No Stabbing Me! NOOOooooo-erk...

Ehem, sorry bout that, needed to go bust out my sword-chucks.

Also, Hild's powers I'm borrowing from the **Dominus Exxet** Rulebook for the **Anima Beyond Fantasy RPG. **Collectively they make up the technique tree known as A'arab Zaraq or The Infernal Arts. As for the powers that Willow's choice wields, those are partially from the afore-mentioned book, some created by myself, and a a few borrowed from the **Anima Beyond Fantasy Forums**. Specifically, the techniques created by **Elric of Melniboné**. If your reading this, which I kinda doubt, you rock man!

* * *

_ Accursed Demons! Hounds of darkness! Come, face the iron might of God!_  
_ And may he have mercy on your black, black souls, for I have none left to give._

_-Giacomo Lugosi, The Blade of God-_

_The thing you have to understand is, God, He's a schemer.  
Everything we do, everything that has been done, its all a part of His plan.  
Where this plan goes, either towards salvation or damnation, I don't care much.  
I am quite sure though, or at least hope, that it isn't going to end up with Eternal Peace or such crap.  
Because if it did it would be boring as crap, and I'd be out of work._

_- Mordekai "Dead Eye" Richler, mercenary-_

* * *

The jingle of little bells signalled the opening of the door and the entry of the first customer of the day. Ethan Rayne, chaos mage and trouble maker extraordinaire, turned from where he had been setting up one of the last few displays with an irritated expression.

"Can't you dumb gits bloody read. The sign says we're closed, so if you would kindly lea-erk!" The potential customer gave the choking chaos mage a look of amusement, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. With a shake of his head, the man in the hat walked over and put his arm around Ethan's shoulders companionably, ignoring the sudden shakes that had struck Ethan.

"Now is that any way to greet a fan of your work. From the way you're reacting I'm sure you know me, but allow me to introduce myself properly. The name is Whistler, and I work for the big boys up top. But you knew that already so lets get down to business." Ethan blinked at the abrupt change in tone, as Whistler had gone from joking to dead serious with suprising suddeness.

"Normally I only take orders from the Powers That Be, but it seems they've gone and done something, or _will _do something that ends up pissing off the Big Man upstairs. And so, lucky me, I get to be the first demon to be the mouthpiece, however temporary, of the Almighty Himself." Whistler gave Ethan a pat on the back, mainly to restart his heart, but also because he was choking on his own spit.

"Oh relax, you aren't in any way involved in that mess, but you are an important part in His plan. In fact, he sent me down here to make sure that this Halloween goes perfectly. So for the next," Whistler looked down at a stop watch he pulled out of a pocket," ten hours or so, I will be your assistant, helping to make sure that everything is just right for the big night. All you," Whistler emphasized his verbal point with a physical one to Ethan's chest," have to do, is cast that little spell of yours. I'll take care of the rest, that sound good to you?"

Ethan swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat before nodding. Maybe he could salvage what was left of his plans he could before things hit the fan. The sudden teeth baring grin on the balance demon's face though, cast serious doubts onto the matter. "Why don't you go in back and get everything set up for tonight. I'll take care of everything out here so go on, get busy." Letting go of Ethan's shoulder Whistler moved towards one of the displays, taking a moment to cast one more comment over his shoulder before Ethan walked out of earshot.

"Oh, and don't bother trying to run. All I am allowed to say is if you do, let's just say it won't end well." Ethan shuddered before moving slightly faster. Whistler chuckled and then looked down at himself, frowning as he considered his appearance. "Now this simply won't due, if I use this form here then I can't use it later, and I do so enjoy wearing this hat of mine. Let's see here, a simple glamour aught to do the trick. And voila! Perfect disguise."

In Whistler's place was instead a rather average looking young man with slicked back brown hair and sleepy looking eyes that hid behind a pair of glasses. A pair of jeans and a _Within Temptation _t-shirt completed the illusion of, relative, normalacy. Pushing the glasses from where they had slipped a few inches, Whistler moved over to a bin of cheap fake guns.

Taking a quick look around, before remembering he was the only one in the store other than Ethan, he reached up into the air. Frowning, he moved his hand around until it dissapeared. With a flourish and smile of victory he withdrew an object from the non-space, and then buried underneat some of the other fake weapons. As he stepped away Whistler muttered to himself quietly. "Alright, one down, three to go."

Walking past a rack of costumes Whistler reached into the empty air again, this time drawing out two simpler costumes. With a smile, he couldn't help but live up to his namesake, whistling a cheery tune while he set the costumes to hang behind some of the others. "And then there was one, but that can wait until later." The balance demon in disguise walked over to the front door, his hand flicking the closed sign to open. " Now then, Show Time!"

* * *

By the time the Scoobies showed up at Ethan's it was already late into the afternoon and most of the costumes were sold, though the three that Whistler had planted had remained untouched, their nature letting none save those their were meant for to notice , let alone touch them. Whistler gave a death's head grin as he watched the group of teens enter the store and begin browsing, completely unaware of what was soon to be unleashed.

Whistler took a look at the watch on his wrist, silently counting down the seconds before it was time for him to act. According to the plan the first two should be getting into position right... about... now. Which left him with just enough to walk up quietly behind them and...

"Can I help you two young ladies with anything?" Whistler had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the reaction his words recieved. The older of the pair, a bubbly redhead, practically jumped out of her skin while the younger only gave a mild start in suprise. The redhead spun around and gave a relieved sigh when she realized it was only the shopkeeper.

"Don't **do **that!" The redhead clutched a hand to her heart as she spoke. "Sorry but doing that to people in Sunnydale is just a bad idea." Whistler gave her a wry smile.

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm Jonesy, the assistant manager. Now is there anything you need? A unique costume perhaps?" The redhead gave a shake of her head.

"Oh, I'm Willow and this is Dawn, sorry about jumping like that. As for the costume, I'll be fine. I already have a costume picked out, see." Whistler raised a brow at the stereo-typical ghost costume he was presented. Smirking a little, he grabbed it from her hands before she could protest and started leafing through the costume rack. Easily finding the first of the costumes he had hidden, he grabbed it and held it in front of his chest, making sure that his customer couldn't see it. He gave a couple of exaggerated looks between the costume and Willow before thrusting it into her hands.

"Here ya go, the perfect thing for a stunning lady like yourself! Much better than that dinky little ghost costume."

Willow gave the costume in her hands a look that was a mix of impressed and trepiditious. It was a beautiful black robe of silk with a hood, covered in ornate and arcane looking embroidery in a silvery-blue colour. With a smile Whistler decided to give a bit of history on the costume.

"Your quite in luck you know, that costume there is the robes of a truly legendary witch from ancient times, one of the two students of the witch Baba Yaga. There are legends that speak of her tricking the devil into making her goddess, though I personally put little stock into such tales. But suffice to say, there are still places in the world where the various names of the Queen of Ravens strike fear into those who remember her."

Seeing Willow quite entranced with her costume Whistler turned to her younger friend." And now for your costume. Hmm, tell me are you familiar with the wonderful world of opera at all? No, shame that, Der Freischütz is such a wonderful piece of art after all. But for you, I have the perfect thing." Whistler frowned as he looked at the costume rack." Now where did Kaspar get off to? Aha, there you are!"

Reaching into the rack Whistler pulled out a feminine cut black business suit. He cocked his head to side before reaching into the rack again, this time retrieve a large flintlock rifle. Wordlessly he handed them off to the young brunette, who smirked at some internal joke. She looked up from the costume with a large smile.

"Awesome costume. You didn't happen to sell a Zamiel costume did you?" She laughed at Whistler's suprised expression, his own laughter joining hers a moment later.

Whistler gave a wry shake of the head. "Well, looks like someone has herself some secrets, hmm? And no, you don't have to worry about Zamiel whisking you off this night. Why don't you two take these up to register. I'll be up there momentarily to ring you up. " Dawn and Willow both gave nods and moved past Whistler towards the counter. The moment they were past the smile slipped from Whistler's face, it replaced with a grim expression as he moved towards his next target.

* * *

Xander, still mildly upset with the mornings events, was digging around in the miscellaneous gun bin looking for the last piece he needed to complete his costume. Frowning as he tried to push away his frustrations, he pawed through the various plastic pistols and machine guns, none seeming to be what he was looking for. He was about to stop and try somewhere else, when his hand snagged on something that most certainly was **not **a gun.

Confused, he pulled the object out of the bin. His eyes widened as he stared at a vicious looking sword, its edge serrated and its guard carved to look like a demonic skull, the blood channel leading into the skull's mouth. The entire blade had an odd blue-ish tint to it, and the runes engraved along its length were highlighted with silver paint. All in all, it was quite an impressive piece.

Xander was about to but it down to the side of the bin, considering it didn't belong with the other items, and resume his search for the last piece he needed for his costume when he noticed someone approachin out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw the assistant who had been helping out Willow and Dawn earlier heading his way with a relieved expression on his face.

"Thanks man, I've been searching for that damn sword everywhere. The boss would've had my head if I lost it, as if I don't have enough problems already." Xander gave a shaky nod in agreement. Whistler gave him a quick look, before coming to a quick decision. "Hey, listen. Since you did me a favour in finding it, how about I let you get first crack at a one-of-a-kind-knock-your-socks-off costume?"

Xander shook his head, "Nah that's fine, I've already got most of my costume already, last thing I needed was the right gun for my soldier. Besides, I doubt I could afford the costume, whatever it is." Xander couldn't help but gripe as he was quite limited with his funds at the moment, especially if he wanted to take that road trip he was planning.

"Hmm, that is a problem. Hey why don't you come check it out first and then decide. If you like it, maybe I can swing something with the boss and let you have it for cheap. No harm in looking, right?" Whistler assked with a smile as Xander clearly fought himself, giving several long looks towards the gun bin before nodding his agreement.

Whistler cheerfully lead Xander towards the back of the store, deftfully navigating his way through the maze of costumes and glass display cases. Whistler let out a quiet sigh of relief as he passed the door to where Ethan was preparing the night's ritual, as he wasn't sure if the door had been shut or not, and it would have been quite a shame for the evening's events to be curtailed by such a thing. Instead he pushed open another door, whic lead to a nearly empty and quite dark storage room connected with the cargo entrance.

With a quiet curse as he smacked into some object in the dark, Whistler fumbled around for the light switch. With a quiet exclamation he found it and switched it on. Xander blinked away the spots caused by the sudden brightness, and when his sight returned his jaw dropped in absolute awe. Standing in front of him, still mostly within its moving crate, stood the most intimidating armour Xander had ever seen.

Something about it just seemed to draw him, or maybe it was it in its entirety, from the spikes and the skull shaped knee-caps to the fur-lined cape. Hell, forget about the gun, _This _was the absolute most manly thing he would ever be likely to find, period. He barely noticed the assistant come up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, sighing dejectedly. Xander did notice when he started talking though.

"Wonderful piece, isn't it. Friend of mine does work at a game company and he managed to get his hands on some unreleased concept art for an upcoming game, sent it off to a guy in Cleveland, and voila. I told him I'd do some promoting for it but they lost the helmet in the mail. And no matter how much I'd like to, I can't simply let someone buy this incomplete, at least not at full price. And if the customer was willing to plug the game a little, maybe a bit more could be knocked off the price?" Whistler trailed off specutively, though inside he was laughing at the sheer desire that Xander was radiating towards the armour.

Xander took one last glance at the armour, then the sword and made up his mind.

"SOLD!"

* * *

Whistler stretched as he stepped behind the counter, his shoulder popping loudly as he let out a relieved breath. The one thing he hated about using glamours long term were the physical constraints that were imposed on the body, especially if one was larger than the form they were glamoured into.

Whistler cast his gaze warily about the store, taking in all the various customers, before settling on the group of four who were approaching, costumes in hand. Well, most of them anyway. The three who did possess costume were deep in discussion with the last member of the group, her blond hair and innate aura easily marking her out as the Slayer.

he rolled his eyes as he watched the blonde Slayer and her friend, the one he had sold the suit of armour to, trying to have a, to his outside perspective, touching moment. Whistler did let himself smirk a bit as the Slayer broke off and moved towards a corner of the shop, ignoring her friend's protests as she made her way over to a noblewoman's gown on a display stand. Quickly cracking his neck and knuckles, Whistler maneuvered himself to intercept the blonde teen at just the right moment.

Buffy reached a hand to touch the dress that had caught her attention, only to snap it back quickly when the shop assistant appeared next to her from behind a costume. She quite nearly took his head off with a backhand on pure reflex, only barely keeping her Slayer and Sunnydale survival instincts under control. The assistant shook his and gave an apologetic look as draped a reserved sign over the neck of the display stand. He started to head back towards the counter, before he turned back to face Buffy, a strange look on his face.

"Hey, um, I know you wanted that costume but maybe I can help you find a different one. A better one even!" It was Buffy's turn to shake her head. that dress was probably her best chance at sedu-impressing Angel in the entire store.

"I doubt that," She half-snorted her response, before blinking in realization of what she had done. "Sorry about that, its just that I really wanted to impress a guy, and that dress was probably my best shot at it." Whistler nodded and made a show of thinking of a solution, before melodramatically snapping his fingers and quickly heading back to the counter.

A somewhat confused Buffy followed closely on his heels, herself being followed by the rest of the Scoobies. Ducking under the counter Whistler dug around the various boxes and drawers until he was sure that his next moves wouldn't be observed. For the last time, he reached into empty space, this time though his hand appearing to disappear into the wall of the underside of the counter. With a flourish Whistler withdrew a long black box, handing it over to Buffy after quickly blowing off a layer of dust.

Buffy peeled up one corner to sneak a peak inside, blinking as she found a small card on top of the dress. Pulling it out and taking a look, her jaw dropped at what had to be the most stunning dress she had ever seen. Even Cordelia wouldn't be able to top this one. And Angel, ooh, Angel would be putty in her oh so willing hands.

Whistler not-so-discreetly coughed as Buffy became lost within her own little dream world, a trail of drool slowly making a wet trail down the side of her mouth. Shaking herself, Buffy quickly wiped away the spit, giving quick and meaningful looks to her friends, and giggling little sister, before turning a radiant smile onto the assistant. "This, this is perfect! Thank you so much! Is there anything I can do for you?"

Whistler made another grand show of thinking of an answer, going so far as to put a foot on a handy nearby box and make a variant of the famed "Thinker" pose. "Hmm, a beautiful young lady offering anything to me, what ever shall I ask of her? Aha!" With that he moved his foot off the box and sprang forward, ensnaring a blushing Buffy's hand in his own. "How about you pay for the costume and we call it even?"

This time Whistler really did laugh out loud.

* * *

The group had split up and gone their separate ways after leaving the store, Xander to his house to await the arrival of his costume, while making sure his parents' didn't get a hold of it, and Buffy, Willow, and Dawn to the Summers' house to get ready for the evening. They had agreed to meet up at Buffy's house before heading off to the school to show off their costumes to each other.

For Xander, walking through the streets of Sunnydale while decked out in full armour was an interesting, if slightly bothersome, venture, as while all the impressed and interested looks he received were quite nice, it was still hot in the armour and somewhat cumbersome to move in, even if it was made of light plastics instead of actual metal.

Stepping up to the door of the Summers' house he gave it a couple light raps. Taking a step back while he waited for the door to be opened, he readjusted the sword in its scabbard on his hip. The door opened and Joyce Summers let out a small sound of surprise. "X-Xander? You look, very impressive. Why don't you come inside, the girls will be down in a minute." With a smile she turned and shouted up the stairs. "Girls, your knightly escort is here!"

"Heh, Thanks Mrs. S. So how come you aren't in costume? It should have been easy to find a nice Wonder Woman costume for you, though I'm pretty sure the Catwoman one would have fit better." Xander asked slyly as he ducked his head under the doorjamb.

Joyce shook her head at Xander's antics. "Well I actually have a meeting tonight and I'm pretty sure they would not approve of your suggested costumes. By the way however did you get your hair to look like that?"

Xander blinked, before responding easily. "Oh I just went down to the drug store and picked up a couple hair dying kits, one to die hair grey and the other blonde, then mixed them. Seemed to work out pretty well. Are you really sure about the costumes though, because I think I still have one here somewhere." With that Xander dug around behind his back before producing a black skintight body suit made out of either leather or possibly vinyl, considering how it reflected the light. "Voila, one Black Widow costume ready to be worn!"

"Xander! Stop trying to get my mom into one of your silly comic book costumes!" Buffy's shouted ultimatum caused Xander to chuckle, a witty retort leaving his lips even as he began turning to see his friend.

"Ah, but my dear sweet Buffy. My life will not be complete until I see at least one Summers girl, or lady in this case, in a skintight outfit, spandex or otherwise! Isn't that ri-ararrrurrr_aaaaawwgggrr..."_ It took Xander's mind a moment to register the information his eyes were feeding him, but when his mind did take in the information it proceeded to commence complete and utter shutdown.

Buffy descended the stairs gracefully, the end of her costume trailing along the ground behind her like a tail. Considering what she was wearing it was no surprise that Xander was out of commission. The _absolutely _skintight black and red Lycra dress clung to every curve like an alcoholic to his last bottle, and the cut V that bared all the way down to her navel didn't help matters. Added together with the dyed snow white hair and the red six pointed star emblazoned on her forehead, then the only difference was the lack of deeply tanned skin between Buffy and Hild.

Buffy gave a laugh at Xander's reaction, before noting another fact that had her smirking. "Really Xander? While I appreciate the the thought behind it, drooling is so not cool. But I must say, you make one swanky looking knight." She admitted without even a bit of reluctance.

The compliment seemed to snap Xander from his sweet daydreams and back to the present. " Sweet Lord of the Twinkies. I hereby now and forever renounce my dreams of superhero costumes for you. Besides," Xander cocked his head to the side in a contemplative manner, "I think that what your wearing is tighter than any superhero costume I could even dream of." As Buffy blushed from the compliment, Xander marked the mental scoreboard at one to one for the evening, before asking the question that had been bugging him since Buffy had descended the stairs, or at least since he had recovered mentally. "So where are the others?"

Xander received his answer a moment alter when he felt something crash into his back with an audible thump, the impact forcing him to take a step forwards as two small arms wrapped themselves around his chest. Turning he found himself staring into a smiling Dawn's eyes, eyes that now had a red colouration thanks to some special contact lenses, framed by a pair of small round cut glasses. Her hair had been tinted a darker brown that bordered on black and brushed straight, with extensions that had it reaching close to the back of her knees. Xander couldn't help but poke at the piece of hair that stuck out off her forehead.

"Cool costume, but uh, who are you supposed to be?" Frowning a bit, Dawn pushed off of Xander and stared at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"What, you've never heard of Hellsing?" At Xander's shake of the head Dawn let out a sigh as she lightly palmed her face. "Süße Mutter Gottes, du Dummkopf." Xander, Buffy and her mother all gave Dawn surprised looks as she let out a muttered curse in German. Dawn returned their looks with a questioning one of her own. "What? Was it something I said?"

As she looked between them the last member of the group made her appearance. Dressed in her black robes with the hood down, the normally quite small and shy Willow cut an imposing figure. Whether it was due to the slightly darker tint of her tied back hair, or from the two stuffed ravens that sat on her shoulders, there was something about her that made her stand out far more than she usually did. Although, the effect was somewhat reduced by the way she was blushing and staring towards the ground. Her blush was due in part to the impressive figure Xander cut in his costume, and partly due to the part of her costume that she hadn't seen in the store, the section that went underneath the robes which was the only reason she had put it on. Even if it wasn't visible though, the tight leather corset, black stockings and thigh-high black boots still made her feel a trifle uncomfortable.

Xander gave an approving nod of his head, it was about time, in his opinion, that Willow stopped wearing that silly ghost costume for Halloween. "So we ready to head out? Can't keep the kiddies waiting after all, and though I wouldn't mind making Snyder a little frustrated I really don't need any more detentions." He received easy nods from Buffy and Willow, and a ridiculous looking salute from Dawn.

"Gleich mein König!" Dawn's statement, accompanied by the salute, proved enough to send her sister, friends, and her own mother into riotous laughter. Once again she gave them all strange looks before muttering to herself. "Seriously, you'd think they never heard German before." Giving a shake of the head she raised her voice so the others could hear her. "Alright, fun time's over, let's go so I, I mean we, can get some candy!"

With that as their rallying cry the gang left the house and headed off towards the school, unmindful of the chaos that was soon to be unleashed upon the town. As they left Joyce gave the piece of latex like fabric Xander had pulled out a look before picking it up and opening it. She couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the spray painted chunk of stitched together latex gloves. She gave the group of teens a humour filled look, maybe next year she could skip out on the party and do something nice for the boy.

* * *

"Thank you for shopping at Ethan's. Hope you have an absolutely haunting Halloween." Seeing off the last customer of the day Whistler let his smile fade as he closed and locked the front door. He gave a sigh and headed towards the back, letting his glamour release as he did so. Stopping in front of the door to the back room he gave it a quick knock before opening it and stepping in. He gave the room's decorations a brief look over before settling on the figure kneeling on the ground in front of a small two-headed bust.

"Well mister Rayne, its seems our time together is coming to its end. Well I must say it has been a most enjoyable endeavor their is still one last piece of unfinished business between us." Whistler gave a grim smile as Ethan gave an involuntary shudder. "Now, cast the spell and I can be on my way. That is, unless you want me to stick around?"

Ethan paled before rapidly shaking his head in the negative. The last thing he needed was a bloody Balance demon hanging around him, he'd attract more trouble than a bus full of virgin Japanese schoolgirls passing by a Shikima clan-meeting. Pushing down his anxiety he began his spell, the gathering of the energies of the Hellmouth sending a chill down his spine. Completing the last part of the incantation there was nearly tangible shock-wave of magical energy that pulsed outwards from the bust of Janus. And moments later there came an almost echo, like a radar bounce, of an even greater amount of magical energy, quickly followed by a massive weight that left Ethan gasping for breath.

As his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell unconscious, he couldn't help but think that maybe he had made a dread miscalculation. Whistler himself had vanished the moment the spell had completed, he knew what was coming and he knew that he didn't want to be anywhere close to the same realm as the Lady of Hell. And the mages, seers, and various oracles of the world all felt a moment of tremendous fear, for something had been unleashed that night that would forever change this world's fate.

Utterly spent from casting the spell, Ethan slumped back against the wall. A few minutes later and he could already hear the screams of panic coming from the darkened streets, though the sound did not bring the pleasure he had originally been hoping for. Instead he tried to block them out as he got to his feet and retrieved his important articles and spell implements. Once that was done he packed up the last of his stuff into a case and left a little note on a stand in front of the door telling how to break the spell, after that he left the costume and the Hellmouth behind him, though he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last time he was there.

* * *

Arthas Menethil, former prince of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, opened his eyes. Which was odd for him, because he hadn't thought of himself as Arthas in many, many years. The reason for that would be, of course, the fact that he had his soul stolen by the cursed blade Frostmourne and then his body taken over by the spirit of a damned, literally damned, orc.

But here was, completely and utterly free of the blasted Lich King, and, now that he thought about it, the undead Scourge as well. Which was quite strange since he was still in possession of Frostmourne, its weight on his hip telling him so, as well as the same set of armour he wore the day he had slain his father. Speaking of here, that was something he didn't know.

Looking around him, he was reminded of a mix of Lordaeron, Stormwind City, and the halls of Ironforge with their steam machines. Try as he might he couldn't think of any place that he had ever heard of or seen, either as himself or the Lich King. As he walked along the streets he noticed that the small creatures he had first noticed crowding the area when he had ,awakened, had fled from his presence.

He was just about to turn down another street when someone jumped out at him from behind. Spinning he brought Frostmourne up to guard and he gave a feral grin at the sparks as his sword blocked the cutlass of appeared to be a human pirate. Still grinning he brought his armored boot up, hitting an area that all men would consider of vital import, the impact causing the pirate to drop his blade and stagger backwards stunned.

Now Arthas could kill the man, but he had no idea if the cursed blade in his hand still retained its arcane properties and he had no intention of damning another man's soul, no matter how possibly black it may have been, to the hell that existed within the confines of the blade. Instead he reversed his grip and slammed the pommel of the blade into the pirates forehead, sending tumbling backwards into unconsciousness.

As he turned from his fallen opponent he couldn't help but feel strangely vindicated about something. Shrugging it off as simply being able to finally fight a battle on his own terms instead of those of the Lich King, he headed off along a random street in the search of something familiar, his eyes failing to notice the way the plants near him withered and began to decay with his passage.

* * *

The woman once known, a long time ago in a nearly forgotten life, as Ulrika Petrovich opened crimson eyes and beheld the world. It was decidedly odd, not her opening her eyes, but the fact that she was able to perceive the world and herself as her own conscious being, instead of as a slave to the will of the dark being that had killed her.

It was decidedly strange, for a long while, though for all she knew it may have been a very short time, she had existed as part of a merged whole, a group of souls with no firm idea of self within an utter and absolute void. And know she was back, and what made things even stranger was the fact that she was, from what she could tell from the appearance of the nearby houses and the writing on the street signs, somewhere in America.

First Lieutenant Rip van Winkle, the name she had acquired during her teen years from her constant napping, caused by the fact that she often worked late into the night, and the name that she had taken with her when she had joined the German military, felt oddly light. Now this could be attributed to either the fact that she had somehow come back to life, well considering the fact that she could still feel her fangs, un-life, it could also be attributed to the fact that for the first time in over sixty years she couldn't feel the annoying buzz at the back of her mind from the chip that had turned her into the being that had become a terror of the battle fields of the Second Great War.

But now, she was free from all the chains that had bound her, and more importantly, she appeared to have somehow arrived in a place where she could sate her hunger with impunity, as the little monsters that were roaming the streets were hardly even worth a moment of her time, nor a single one of her special bullets. As she walked down the street, occasionally slamming the butt of her rifle into the head of a monster that had worked up enough courage to approach her, she couldn't help but reminisce about her past.

She idly wondered what her mother would think, if she would have been proud of what her daughter had become and what she had done. Ah her mother, a young farmer's daughter who lived in a town a little ways from Magdeburg, and her father, the Russian wanderer who had stayed around long enough to name his daughter and see to it so that she would receive the last of his few possessions before dying. She couldn't remember much of her father, his death having come a year or so after her birth, but she could remember how her mother had tried to raise her to love her homeland to point of near fanatical devotion, in order to make up for the 'disgrace' of the blood that ran in her veins.

When the call to fight sounded Rip answered with an eager need to prove herself to both her country and her own mother. She had easily turned the talents that had put at the top of the hunters of the forests of Germany towards the hunting of a different kind of prey. It was her skills and her father's special rifle that had garnered the attention of the Letztes Bataillon.

The last thing she could remember with any clarity was the pain of being devoured, of being so utterly and completely consumed by a monster far stronger and more horrifying than any she had ever seen, even more monstrous than the Major. But now she was as far away from the aircraft carrier that had become her grave as was possible, though it didn't quite seem so.

Turning down a street she saw a large figure, taller and much more solid than even the Captain, turn a corner a block away. The figure turned to face her and Rip felt herself begin to blush, though she couldn't for the unlife of her figure why. As he started to approach she took in more of the details, and, once he was close enough to see the crimson of her eyes, she attacked. Her first strike was a quick knife edge blow to the throat, an incapacitating but non-lethal blow, that was blocked with ease.

Her next series of blows were all met with blocks, yet there was no counter attack from her opponent. Finally she managed to sneak a blow through, her fist impacting into the stomach of the far larger figure and winding him. Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, Rip moved behind him and before he could react bit down hard onto his neck. Her eyes widened explosively as she reeled back at the first taste of her prey, coughing and spluttering out air. Incredulously she stared at where she had bit down, only to find a set of puncture wounds from her teeth, yet no blood.

She rolled her eyes as she stood up. Of course the first human looking thing she came across had to be already dead, though he wasn't a vampire from what she could tell. Oh well, maybe he could help her out then, if he wasn't too upset over her biting him like that. As for Arthas, he was feeling a bit confused. When he had seen the young lady who was currently standing off to the side of him he was curious. To his senses she felt very similar to himself and, from what he could remember, to Sylvanas as well.

He had approached her in the hopes of gaining her aid and when she attacked he was caught off guard, though he still managed to block her first blow thanks to his reflexes. When he had been fighting her he had found that each of her blows hit harder than an orc, the surprise caused by that preventing him from launching any reprisal. Her speed was quite good too, easily equal to any elf, and when her blow slipped under his guard and slammed into his stomach he was very glad for the armour, other wise he would have probably ended up with a crushed torso. And then she bit him. She BIT him, him a prince of the realm, well former prince anyway, and he would have knocked her off himself had he not felt the strangest feeling, it was a spreading warmth that caused him to shiver and his blood to rush to his heads, and once more he was glad he in his armour.

But based on her reaction, the bite hadn't done exactly what is was supposed to do. Though, if she was similar to the undead then it was probably designed to affect living beings, something that he hadn't been for a long time. Maybe she knew what was going on, after all what did have to lose, since he had yet to draw Frostmourne he was reasonably sure that he could defeat her if she decided to attack again.

"While I do find your manner of greeting lacking, perhaps you could help me. Do you know how to get to Lordaeron from here?" His question was met with a confused look and a tentative shake of the head. Sighing he decided to try a different location. "How about the city of Stormwind?" Another shake of the head, this time more confident. "Ironforge? Quel Thalas? Gilneas?" By now he was growing desperate as it was become more and more apparent that wherever he was, it was most likely not Azeroth. "Kul Tiras? Northrend? Great, now what am I supposed to do."

With that he sat down on the curb of the street, the young girl, undead thing, sitting across from him. He gave her a wry look. "I don't suppose you know any magic do you?" He recieved yet another shake of the head. "Well, I thank you for your aid any way. Although," He smiled lecherously towards her, " If that lovebite of yours was anything to go by, would you care to pass the time with me?"

Rip's face went carefully blank as she reached behind her back and pulled out her rifle. Still expressionless, she aimed her rifle at the laughing knight. A ghost of a smirk tugged at her lip as she pulled the trigger, the world vanishing in a crash of thunder and billow of smoke. With that she calmly set her rifle across her lap and began the painstaking process of cleaning it, not even bothering to look up at the stunned knight who was inspecting the rapidly closing hole in his chest. "Hochmütig eselhengst." She muttered quietly as she gently polished the hammer on her rifle.

* * *

The being known throughout the dimensions ,and various parts of the multiverse, as the Daimakaichō, the ruler of the True Hell, though that was only a part of Nifelheim, opened her eyes. Now that, for her, was decidedly odd, since she had, before opening them, been dealing with her daughter over a certain matter that shall not be mentioned here. And yet, somehow she had been ripped from her dimension and transported to a wholly different one.

No mere mortal, nor god or devil, had the power to do such a thing save one. And, after taking a moment to study her current body, or at least the body she currently was inhabiting, she knew this was exactly what he would do, which didn't stop her from cursing his name.

"ODIIIIIN! When I get back, I'm gonna-" Anything further she might have added was lost as tremendous bolt of lightning impacted the tree closest to her. As she was now she couldn't pull even a fraction of her true power, and she though she would truly enjoy it, she couldn't do anything like she had planned. Instead she simply grumbled a bit and cursed under her breath as she took to the sky, until she reached a position with which she oversee her current surroundings.

Once there, she summoned her terminal and tried to connect to the Nidhogg system, frowning when it failed to respond. She repeated the process a couple more times, her frown growing darker as it still failed. Now grimacing, she tried to connect to the only other system, the Yggdrasil system in Asgard. Her grimace though, turned into confusion when she was locked out of accessing the system. Now, usually she would have found that completely reasonable, but in those cases the system would send back a response reading, "_For use by the Powers That Be only."_ And while Odin and quite a few of his gods and goddesses had large egos, they never called themselves the Powers That Be, or such drivel.

So that meant that Odin, may his lightning strike him down, had sent her here for a purpose. It wouldn't be the first time she would have to deal with a situation where Odin had gone and gotten himself locked out from influencing things due to a coup of some sort, though they had still yet to figure out a way of dealing with those blasted Chaos Gods in that one dimension now that she thought about it. But, if only Yggdrasil was here, then that meant that Nifelheim did not exist, as the Nidhogg system was intricately linked with the existence of the realm.

Hild gave a grim smile as she considered things. The spell that brought her here would eventually run out and she'd return to her own dimension, but that didn't mean she couldn't leave something behind. She had already searched through her host's memories and found a couple things she could use to her advantage. The first was her nature as Slayer. It wasn't too hard to break the bindings and use the loose ends to attach a portion of her essence to the young girl. The second thing she found while searching through the girl's memories was her sister. The moment she had stumbled across the first memory she had noticed something off about it.

Well well, it seems that there was a little paradox she had to deal with. It seemed her host's sister was not merely her sister, but also a repository for arcane energy wired with a variety of dimensional abilities. And from what she could tell, she had made her host's sister herself, though she had yet to do so, and altered reality enough that the Ultimate Force actually interfered and set the changes into reality. Not wanting to be caught in a temporal break, Hild spared a moment to complete the changes necessary.

With all that she could think of completed, Hild was about to end the spell that had brought her to this dimension, before she felt a somewhat familiar presence appear behind her. She didn't even bother to turn and face the new arrival, instead offering her arm for an abnormally large raven to perch upon. Smiling she petted the bird as she turned around, her eyes facing down into the raven's.

"Well, I can't say I'm none too happy to see you, but then again we didn't exactly part ways on the best of terms, did we Morrigain?" With that Hild cast her eyes up towards the chuckling redhead floating in the air across from her, the black robe she customarily wore thrown open.

"Oh please," She dismissively waved her hand towards Hild, "your just upset that I was able to escape payment for your contract. Besides, what happened to the favour you owed me for stealing from your ex? Then again, its only because I did manage to steal away my little babies that I was able to escape from ending up in Hell, so I guess it all worked out. Isn't that right Huginn?" She gave the raven that was perched on her shoulder a pat on the head as she smirked at Hild.

Hild narrowed her eyes as she stared at the being across from her, the raven on her arm taking off and flying over to land on Morrigain's other shoulder."If your here then I guess Huginn and Muninn already told you what was going on?" Recieving a nod in return Hild gave a bitter laugh. "Then its a shame that we can't settle things properly, I was so looking forward to the day when I had you screaming for death at my hands. But then again," a thoughtful look stole its way across Hild's face, "maybe we can settle things. Besides, beating on you would do my temper a world of good."

Morrigain sniffed disdainfully before rolling her shoulders and dislodging Huginn and Muninn. "Fine then, though I dislike having to fight, seeing your face when I've defeated you will make it worthwhile." Morrigain raised her arms into the air as she gathered her magical energy. _**"Ís vígi!"** _Morrigain smiled toothily as she summoned nine immense rune carved monoliths of black ice, the runes shining with their own infernal light as they began to orbit around her.

Lowering her hands, Morrigain gestured towards Hild, "**_Fryst sker!"_ **From the centerpoint of each of the monoliths emerged a tall skeletal figure, each one baring a massive weapon made out of black ice, from one with sword wider than a man's chest and as long as a car, to one with a scythe that seemed to catch the evening light and trap it within its dark depths.

Morrigain floated over to the closest figure, this one armed with a pistol and cutlass, and bearing the traces of a beard upon its chin, and draped herself across it, her hand reaching up to trace the contours of its bare skull with a loving tenderness. She cast a sly glance over to Hild, who was watching things with interest. "Beautiful aren't they? Each one of them painstakingly crafted by hand and with only the most valiant and powerful souls bonded to them." Morrigain laughed at Hild's shock. "Oh yes, each one of them possesses the soul of a warrior of great power that I had my ravens steal away before they could escape. This one here," she playfully tapped the skeleton on the chest, "is someone you should be quite familiar with, isn't that right Blackbeard? Now get her!"

Still off balance from the revelation that someone had managed to steal away a soul that had been highly prized by her talent agency in Nifelheim, a soul that all had figured had been cursed to forever walk the earth when it never appeared in any of the various afterlife destinations, Hild had little time to bring up a shield to block the magically created and enhanced pistol ball from erupted from Blackbeard's flintlock. The ball of arcane ice shattered against the wall of solidified tar-like blood that had erupted from Hild's arms. With a thought the blood flowed back inside her body, revealing a Hild with a very disapproving glare on her face.

With a gesture her of her hand she let out a gout of black blood that spilled out into the air. A moment later and the purpose of the act was made clear as thousands of tentacles baring maws filled with sharpened teeth that whipped around in the air, forcing the other skeletal figures to hack their way through them, one of them already surrounded and devoured by the tentacles.

Soon enough the last of the tentacles were cut down and the Fryst sker began to advance towards Hild. Frowning she reached into her robes and retrieved a ridiculously large spike of iron that still glowed cherry red and causing the air to waver from the heat as if freshly retrieved from the forge. With a flick of her wrist the spike flew through the air and impaled itself into one of the monoliths, the heat of the metal causing the ice to explode as its inside was turned to steam in an instant. With the shattering of the monolith that it had emerged from, one of the Fryst sker melted into a puddle of liquid that near instantly evaporated.

That still left seven Fryst sker who were advancing towards Hild. Frowning she pointed towards a pair of Fryst sker who were advancing together, before forcefully closing her fingers into a fist. The moment her hand tightened dozens of bloody, barbed chains erupted from the air and pierced the figures through a large portion of their bones. Hild's frown turned into a smile as she opened her hand, the chains mimicking the action and tearing the two Fryst sker into pieces.

Then there was no more time for ranged attacks as the first of the Fryst sker was on her, his sword whistling through the air with deadly intent, each swing punctuated with a forceful strike with the shield strapped to his other arm. Hild growled as she forced onto the defensive, then with almost contemptous ease slipped under his guard and wrapped a hand around his skull, giving Morrigain a look filled with dark promise as she crushed the skull and the gem inside that sustained the Fryst sker.

Hild gave the remnants of the broken summon a pointedly false apologetic look. "Oops, looks like I broke your little toys. They just don't make them like they used too anymore." Morrigain cocked her to the said as she considered Hild's words, giving the remaining Fryst sker a look, before they each erupted in a spray of black, tar-like blood covered in demonic amethyst eyes. She looked back up just in time for Hild to catch her full on with a spectral claw of pure, solidified evil, the impact sending her hurtling uncontrollably from the sky.

Hild winced as her foe hit the street below, Morrigain already recovering from the shock of the impact and subsequent cratering of the ground. No longer bothering with her conventional ice-based incantations, Morrigain fell back to her roots, summoning a swarm of ghostly ravens to attack Hild. Utilizing the distraction the ravens caused, Morrigain tapped into the ambient magical energy of her surroundings to drop the temperature rapidly. A black frost began to radiate out from her position, large crystals of the frost forming on metal objects nearby.

Soon enough Hild had disposed of the last of the summoned ravens but it was by that point too late to stop Morrigain's technique from being completed. With the surrounding area encased in her black ice Morrigain unleashed one of her more powerful techniques. From every single ice covered surface emerged a gleaming black blade or spike of ice, save for the ground closest to Morrigain. Instead, emerging from the ice like a dark and terrible primordial beast of myth was a titan of finely sculpted ice, its handsome male features marred by the gigantic claws that emerged like wings from its back.

Fully manifested, the titan charged towards Hild, its attack aided by a barrage of the near uncountable blades and spikes of ice. Its claws tearing out great gouges of the terrain the titan caught Hild with a glancing blow, the momentum of the impact causing her to spin in the air, barely avoiding some of the flying projectiles. Taking advantage of the need to reorient herself, Morrigain slammed Hild with a massive spike of ice from above, the column driving the Queen of Hell into the ground.

Morrigain had only a moment to savour her victory however, as the column of ice, as well as her titan, were swept away by a torrent of pure infernal energy, the destructive blast tearing through Morrigain's constructs as if they were made of wet paper. The torrent of energy took the form of a sea of red and black blood filled with eyes and lots of teeth that seemed to gnash when they weren't devouring something. The shockwave from the blast knocked the breath out of Morrigain, and the heavy feeling caused by the energy forced her to her knees, gasping for air.

She raised a defiant eye towards the sky, finding Hild floating there unconcerned, her appearance immaculate and completely untouched from the assault she had just withstood. Morrigain began to draw on more of the energy of the Hellmouth when the flow was abruptly cut off. Eyes wide she stared at a smirking Hild, who was giving her wag of the finger, as if she were a small child being punished for spoiling her supper.

"None of that now, you've had your fun, as have I. But its well past time for us to return to our own dimension, am I wrong?" Morrigain growled, she dearly wanted to refute Hild, but she had to agree, and considering how much it had taken out of her already she wasn't sure if she could stand against a Hild who was truly angry at her, she had only done so well up to this point because of how much weaker Hild was in her current vessel.

"Fine." Morrigain spat out bitterly. "But you had better not screw with me." Hild chuckled, causing Morrigain to again growl angrily.

"Now now, I have nothing to gain from causing you trouble, at least in this dimension. Trust me on this matter though, should our paths cross once we return, I assure you the outcome for yourself will be much more, hellish. I trust I have your understanding of this fact?" The normally smirking expression on Hild's face was gone and in its place was a grim and serious one. Morrigain didn't doubt Hild's words for a moment and nodded her acknowledgement.

"Wonderful!" Hild clapped her hands together, a smirk-like smile back on her face. "Is there anything you have left to do before we leave this world? I have already left a few gifts of my own as payment to my host, and its only fair." Morrigain snorted derisively.

"Yes that's the word, _fair_. But yes, I've left a few spells for my vessel, though she'll have to earn anything beyond the first few cantrips I left her."

"No need to get snippy just because you lost, and you should have known there wouldn't been any other outcome. But that's besides the point, its well past time we were gone from this world." As Hild gathered the energy necessary to break the spell, Morrigain decided to slip in one last word.

"Oh, and tell that little succubus of yours to stop using my name, its damaging my reputation." She wasn't expecting a response and she didn't receive one, though that may have been due to the fact that the spell had broken, snapping her back to her home dimension. With a sound like a high tension wire snapping in two all those affected by the spell snapped back to their own bodies. For most, the chaos of the evening would be written of to various causes such as bad candy or too much drink, but for one group, the evening would leave much more lasting effects.

* * *

**First** thing, the costumes. Now, I could have changed just Buffy's costume, but that would leave the rest of the gang seriously underpowered, even compared to how they are with a normal Buffy. So I decided to go with costumes that would play to each of their strengths, Willow dressed as a goddess of magic, Xander as a former paladin, and Dawn, well, Hellsing is just awesome. Besides, I have some plans for later on involving, well lets just say Big things are gonna happen.

**Buffy** = Daimakaichō **Hild** from Ah Megami-sama. **Not OC.**

**Willow** = The Queen of Ravens, other aliases as follows : **Morrigain** (Not the succubus from Darkstalkers but the Celtic Goddess of War, Death and Magic), The Winter Witch, The Blackfrost Tzarina, Hel, and Morgan la Fey. **Semi-OC combined with mythology. **

**Huginn and Muninn,** Odin's ravens, named **Thought** and **Memory** respectively, who travel around the world bringing him news. **See above.**

**Xander** = **Arthas Menethil,** former prince of Lordaeron and ex-Lich King, still a Death Knight though. **Definitely not OC.**

**Dawn** = First Lieutenant **Rip van Winkle,** from Hellsing, now a True Nosferatu instead of a prototype Freak copy. Her former name, **Ulrika Petrovich,** is probably recognizable to those who read a lot of fantasy, as it comes from one of Games Workshop's more popular series, and that is all I will say on the matter. **Nope, not OC either. **

As for the quotes at the top, they belong to two characters from a fantasy novel I'm working on. Yeah, you heard right, I'm working on a piece of original fiction that I hope to eventually publish. **Yes, these ones are the OCs.**

**Second,** translations, according to google:

Süße Mutter Gottes, du Dummkopf = Sweet mother of god, you idiot.

Gleich mein König = Right away my King.

Hochmütig eselhengst = Arrogant Jackass.

Ís vígi = Ice Fortress

Fryst sker = Frost Reaper

**Lastly**, I hope you all enjoyed this, and come back next chapter to see what happens when good ol' Giles finds out. Here's a little snapshot:

"OH MY GOD! I SHOT XANDER!"

So look forward to it. Or not, its your choice.

* * *

Flames will be used to heat my house, it gets kinda cold up here in Canada.

**!REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

Well, here we go again. And a couple more quotes from a few of my own characters. One's a genius who used to design weapons of war, before he was sold out after a coup, the other a nasty witch, literally. Oh, and the last one is a main character in the current novel I'm writing. The other two I have plotted to show up in their own novel.

Also, a great deal of thanks go to JohnDeath, for being my beta for this chapter. If you like YAHF-type stories, I highly recommend you check out his work: Warslayer.

* * *

W_ar, there's nothing in the world like it.__  
__I love the sounds of armies on the march.__  
__I love the chaotic scramble on the fields of battle.__  
__I love the symphony of gunfire and the screams of the dying.__  
__War, I live for war. I worship it. I practice it. I create it. And I end it._

_-Nikolai Serberov - Renegade head of Military R&D for the Federation of Iron, now the Fed's most wanted-_

_Magic, ah thy blessed might.__  
__Thy embrace is like that of heaven's own touch.__  
__Thy intoxicating power in my grasp, at mine bidding.__  
__Thou hast made me a goddess among mortals.__  
__And with thy power, I shall tear apart the very bindings of the veil,__  
__And let loose the clarion call of the dead.__  
__The world shall know fear, like never before.__  
__Ware, for the dark times of the War of Shadows draws near._

_-Lucia Arturias Darkfrost - The Lady of Ice -_

_Life's a Bitch.__  
__Death's a slut.__  
__Guess which I'm in love with._

_-Helena Maxwell-_

* * *

Buffy groaned as she finally came to. She opened her eyes only to close them with another groan moments later due to the painful brilliance of the outside world. As she heard her groan echoed, she slowly reopened her eyes, taking care to let them adjust to the light. Once she could properly see again, she found, to her immense surprise, that she was lying on the ground staring up at a street light.

As she stared at it, unwilling to try moving her body after her first attempt to do so resulted in spots dancing across her vision and painful burning in her muscles, she noticed that there was a thick layer of dark frost coating the metal. She frowned as she tried to figure out why there would be so much frost in the middle of California.

With the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb detonating a foot away from her, the memories of the evening's events, as well as the pseudo memories of a being older than creation, slammed into focus. Buffy groaned as the memories of her costumed persona ran through her mind at breakneck pace. The more that came though, the less pain each subsequent memory caused as they integrated with her own, though Buffy was too distracted at the moment to notice.

Eventually the torrent of memories slowed to a trickle that she could more easily ignore. With another groan, Buffy raised herself up to her feet. Her mouth was dry as she looked around her, the frost and large craters that covered the ground testament to her temporarily adapted persona's, Hild's, fight with Morrigain. Buffy straightened explosively as recognition struck her like a bolt from the heavens.

Eyes wide, she turned and hastily scanned the area from where she had earlier heard the groan originate from. It took her a moment to realize that the dark bump on the road wasn't frost build-up or other debris, but once she did, she rushed over as fast as she could, her feet occasionally slipping on the icy ground. Dropping to her knees next to it, she carefully turned the bundle of cloth towards her, her fears well founded as the face of her redheaded friend peeked out of the tangled black robes.

She let out a breath she was unaware she held as she saw the slow rise and fall of Willow's chest, a chest which Buffy jealously couldn't help but notice seemed to be more noticeable. Her slight annoyance was distracted as she noticed what appeared to be a stain on the back of Willow's neck. Buffy was unsure of whether or not she should move Willow, considering she was unconscious, but she compromised by moving Willow as little as possible in order to untangle her from her robes.

Buffy smiled at her handiwork as she finally got Willow loose; her eyebrows rose skywards as she saw what had been hidden underneath the robe. It seemed Xander's little Willow was more grown up than anyone had figured, and Buffy again couldn't help but feel a jealous tug at her heart at Willow's additions. She gave a shake of her head as she returned to her original purpose.

She carefully pulled down the back of Willow's leather top - which Buffy still couldn't quite believe she was wearing - and gave a small gasp. The dark stain was only the tip of a pattern of interweaving lines that seemed to cover Willow's whole back, though Buffy wasn't sure since she could only see so much, but the pattern the lines seemed to resolve into seemed far too large to merely exist just around Willow's shoulder blades.

She would have studied the strange design more, but with a quiet whimper Willow's eyes snapped open. Buffy leaned back as Willow sat up, her eyes wide and pained. Buffy gave a wince as she realized what was most likely happening, as she had experienced the brutal memory dump only a few minutes earlier. Finally it seemed that the memories had stopped, or Willow had become more resistant to the pain they caused like Buffy had.

Willow gave a shake of her head to clear it of the last few cobwebs before giving a look around; her eyes settled on a familiar form and her jaw dropped in surprise. While it would be hard not to recognize her friend -especially with the distinctive dress she had on- more than a few things looked out of place. Willow couldn't remember a time when Buffy had possessed such a deep tan, or such noticeable, ahem, assets. Willow also couldn't help but feel a bit unsure of the way Buffy's wig seemed to look more realistic. Of course, that was only if the person kneeling next to her was, in fact, Buff y.

"Buffy, is that you?" Her friend gave her a surprised blink. Cocking her head to the side, Buffy tentatively put a hand to Willow's forehead.

Buffy staged whispered under her breath as she inspected Willow's face. "Hmm, no temperature. So, of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

Willow gave a sigh in relief. "Well, you could have still been the Daimakaicho." Both Willow and Buffy shared surprised looks at the title that had casually slipped from her mouth, each understanding the word and its meaning, but unsure of how the other knew of it.

"Willow, how do you know that name?" Buffy's voice was quiet, and she was already tensing herself for what could possibly be a truly difficult fight, if the person in front of her still possessed any of the more than formidable skills and spells of the Dark Goddess of Magic. Willow herself was puzzled by her words, and digging around in her mind uncovered more than a few memories that she knew were not hers; after all, she was pretty sure that she had never tried to seduce a young Cú Chulainn. Though she had to admit, he looked pretty good for a little guy in armour, even after her died by her machinations.

Willow swallowed and gave Buffy a haunted look, a look that only deepened as the two stuffed birds she had brought with her earlier circled down from the sky and settled on her shoulders, their red eyes seeming to smirk in the twilight of the evening. . "I think that we might have more problems than we thought; although, with all the cool spells that Morrigain knew, maybe I could find something useful," Willow paused and a small half-smile grew on her face, one hand unconsciously reaching up to pet one of the formerly stuffed ravens on the head, "She has all these cool rituals, and I think more than a few potions too; ooh, I bet we could finally get back at Cordelia, there's this really neat one that-" Anymore that Willow might have added was cut off as Buffy put a hand over her mouth, the pair of ravens on her shoulder ruffling their feathers at their master's treatment.

"Enough already, it's you." Buffy rolled her eyes as Willow's face turned into a pout. Buffy removed her hand as she stood up and took a look at their surroundings, Willow following a moment later. Buffy gave an amused shake of her head as she observed the signs of destruction that littered the streets. "I don't know what the heck happened, but I think we need to go talk to Giles about this. If there's anyone who'd know, it'd be him."

Willow nodded and began to move past Buffy, before a thought struck her. "Hey Buffy, what if we weren't the only ones who changed?"

Buffy stared cluelessly at her friend before she made the connection. "Oh no, Xander and," her breath hitched in her throat, "Dawn." Her eyes were wide in fear as she tried to remember where Xander and Dawn had decided to go trick or treating. Willow frowned in thought, but brightened as an idea struck her as she turned and whispered to the ravens on her shoulders. The birds seemed to give her amused looks before they took to the air, circling in the sky a moment before heading off down the streets. Willow nudged Buffy in the side and pointed them out before quickly following them.

The streets were oddly quiet as Buffy and Willow passed by various unconscious children in costumes, as well as the occasional costumed adult or teen, while following the pair of ravens as they slowly flew through the sky. As they made their way towards the street Snyder had assigned Xander, or at least to a place nearby, Willow wondered how she'd explain her differences to her parents. On the other hand, it might finally be her way of getting them to pay attention to her and to stop treating her like she was still in elementary school. She had taken a quick look at herself, and other than her hair being a few shades darker, as well as being a touch more developed in the chest area, she was still pretty close to how she was before. However, she was certain that her parents, as unobservant as they were, would notice the ravens that followed her around, as well as the Mark of Morrigain that likely covered her back. Explaining that would be interesting, and something she was certainly not looking forward to. The Mark was the means by which Morrigain left her memories to Willow, at least, that' s what one of the memories told her.

She also wondered how she would bring up the matter of Buffy's own changes. As it was, Buffy was so focused on finding her sister that she had yet to notice he fact that she was taller or that her platinum - not the platinum blonde dyed or bleached hair like most but rather a silvery-white that shone like precious metal - hair seemed to flow down her back and over her slim yet shapely rear. That thought nearly caused Willow to fall flat on her face as she choked on air. Buffy turned to give help, but Willow waved her off as she quickly recovered. It appeared to Willow that Morrigain's memories might have brought with them a little more than just the cool spells and improved physique.

Her pondering was pushed aside as they turned around the corner and spotted Xander, his intimidating suit of armour unmistakable, lying on the ground across from another teen, though something about the scene seemed off. The pair spared the young woman a quick glance, but despite the strange clothing tickling the back of their minds with familiarity, the teen's features didn't seem immediately placeable, though they did seem to remember them from somewhere before.

The pair shared mental shrugs as they turned to their fallen friend. Once again something struck them as strange about his appearance, though the silver-grey hair and pale skin might have had something to do with it. They pair bent down at each side and hauled Xander upwards, the pair grunting at the amount of effort it took to set Xander sitting. A curious Willow leaned forwards and rapped a hand against the chest-plate of Xander's armour, a surprised look on her face at the deep metallic ring that echoed out quietly. Buffy raised an eyebrow and gave Willow a wry look.

"Well, that explains why he was so dang heavy." The pair chuckled to themselves quietly. "Hey Wills, you got a wake up spell or something?" Willow furrowed her brow in thought as she perused some of the leftover memories from Morrigain. To her frustration, most of the memories seemed to be locked away and refused to become clear enough for her to gain the necessary details from them, however the most basic spells seemed to be open for her access.

Looking through the spells she did have access to, she found the perfect one for her current needs, with a little alteration that is. With a wide and mischievous grin that unsettled Buffy, Willow reached into the air with a hand and made a sharp tugging gesture. Eyes closed in focus, Willow licked her lips before uttering a single short sentence in a language unfamiliar to Buffy's ears.

"Póg na farraige." She punctuated her word with another sharp tug, and from the air above Xander's head came a torrential downpour of water. Buffy gave a squeak of surprise and leapt backwards to avoid getting wet. Willow cut off the spell after Xander began to twitch and struggle beneath the ice cold water. As Xander shook his head of the remaining water, Willow and Buffy both broke down into giggles, to which Xander responded with a dark glare. The glare lasted only a short while before he too joined Willow in finding the humor of the situation, though he restrained himself to a quiet chuckling instead of giggling like the girls.

Buffy sighed and her face turned serious as she gave Xander a piercing stare. "Xander, do you remember anything about what happened tonight?"

Xander furrowed his brow in thought, before he gave a surprised blink and muttered to himself under his breath. "You gotta be kidding me." He paused for a moment, his voice sounding off to his ears, though he couldn't put his finger down on just what exactly was different. He tiredly rubbed at his forehead as he gave Buffy a strange look. "I don't suppose that my suddenly becoming the prince of a place neither of us has ever heard of was a dream?" Xander paused f or a moment as he brought a hand up to rub his forehead. "Though it would go a long ways to explaining why I got smacked in the face with a frying pan made out of ice."

Buffy smirked and shook her head as she gave a horrified Willow an amused glance. "Sorry Xander, no such luck. Although, you got off luckier than I did, what with the whole Queen-of-Demons thing Hild had going on. Now, where's Dawn?" Xander flinched at the intense look Buffy fixed him with. He gave her a sheepish smile as he organized his thoughts.

"Uhh, well, my guy was lost right?" Buffy nodded carefully, as she wondered what exactly this had to do with her sister's whereabouts. "So he was just wandering around looking for something familiar and he ran into Dawn's character; thing is, they didn't get along too well." Xander grimaced as Buffy's stare turned into a glare.

"My guy was a, well he was a bit of a self-described ladies man, so he did the first thing he could think of when he met a good-looking woman, he hit on her." Buffy moved so quickly neither Xander nor Willow actually registered what had happened until Xander impacted the trunk of the tree behind him, a good five meters from he had been standing. As he carefully removed himself from the wreckage, Xander couldn't help having the most inane thought that he could have possibly explained things a little better.

As he pulled himself to his feet, Xander paused to dust off his armour, more than a little thankful for the fact that it had remained fully functional. He gave Buffy a wry look as she huffed and looked away. Xander smirked and shook his head in amusement as he walked back over to Willow and Buffy. "As I was saying, my guy made a big mistake, because whoever Dawn dressed as really didn't appreciate it." Xander moved a hand over his chest as he grimaced from phantom pains. "And she made damn sure I was aware of it too. Damn rifle of hers packed a punch."

Buffy sighed and began to impatiently tap her foot. "Where. Is. She." Xander opened his mouth to answer, only to flinch backwards as he took one look at Buffy, or more importantly, the faint trails of black lightning that slowly crackled unnoticed around her. Hastily, he turned and pointed towards the unfamiliar figure Buffy and Willow had earlier ignored.

"Over there, I guess she kinda didn't turn all the way back." It was a testament to how strange the situation was for all involved when Xander failed to make any witty response, or Buffy a sharp observation of her own, as the trio gathered around Dawn's unconscious body. Upon closer observation, it was much easier to pick out familiar details in Dawn's face, though there were many changes. The freckles that spotted her cheeks were new, as was the length of her long dark blue, nearly black, hair. Of course, those slight cosmetic differences were nothing compared to that fact that Buffy's younger sister appeared to have aged most of a decade in the space of a couple of hours.

Buffy gently nudged her sister in the side, only to frown when she refused to react in any visible manner, the same lack of response meeting every other way the trio could think of to wake her. With a loud sound of frustration torn from her lips, Buffy leaned back and let herself sit down beside her sister. As she thought of ways to get back at whoever had caused everything to go crazy, her plans becoming much darker and more sinister as she stared balefully at her sister's transformed body, Buffy finally took notice of her own physical changes when she crossed her arms under her expanded chest.

She gave a surprised start before she turned her eyes downwards, and although she was still weighed down by the gravity of the situation, she couldn't help but grin at the thought of how absolutely jealous Cordelia and her little clique would be when she came to school the next day and found their biggest rival looking, well, looking hotter than Hell. Not only would she have a body any other girl would kill for, or pay several million dollars for a facsimile thereof , she was pretty sure that her new hair and tan would cement her as the most desirable young woman around, perfect for manipulating the unwitting masses.

Buffy froze as the last thought that ran through mind actually registered. She had initially brushed off Willow's worries and her own about the leftover memories, but that last thought seemed utterly foreign to her, and yet the more she focused on it the more she found herself agreeing with the rationale behind it . With all the force of will she could muster, she tore her thoughts away from the path she wasn't sure she wanted them to go down, and brought her attention back to the current situation.

It was obvious that if they couldn't wake her sister -and she was her sister and always had been, damn whatever her, Hild's, memories might say otherwise - the next best thing would be to bring her somewhere where she could sort everything out. She certainly couldn't bring Dawn home, not with the way she was at the moment and neither Willow's nor Xander's places were particularly high on her spots to visit list, which left only the one option.

"Alright, its kind of obvious that we aren't going to change anything just sitting out here, and I really don't want to show up and explain to mom why Dawn's looks like she should be joining us at school tomorrow, so I think it's time for us to do the smart thing." She paused for a moment as she waited for one of the other's to speak, only to sigh in exasperation as they stared at her cluelessly.

"We go check in with Giles." She shook her head in mock sadness as Xander and Willow made sounds of dawning comprehension, while her sister, obviously, made no sound at all. "Honestly, you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to figure out. Anyways, Xander, since you're still Mr. Muscles here, you get to grab Dawn. Chop chop now."

Xander grimaced as he hopped to his feet, carefully lifting Dawn into his arms while Buffy watched with a strange twinkle in her eyes, amused at something only she knew. Xander took the lead as he headed off down the street towards the high school while Buffy drifted back a bit to catch up with Willow, who was trying her hardest to switch between a horrified pale color, and an embarrassed red a shade deeper than that of her hair.

"So, the frying pan." Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing as Willow's face skipped red and tried to go towards a shade of purple that, if she could have actually reached it and then copied down on to a fabric, Buffy would have quite liked to use for a dress, preferably one made of Lycra. She wet her lips and tried once more to ignore the foreign thoughts that were slowly but surely infecting her own. "Morrigain again, right?" Willow nodded her head sheepishly as she tried her best to imitate a turtle by drawing herself into her clothing.

Buffy raised a brow in curiosity at the reaction." Oh come on, all she did was smack Xander around a bit. Nothing to be ashamed of right? I mean, Dawn did apparently shot him, so you're kinda on the lower end of the trouble-meter here." She paused as she noticed Willow shrinking inwards even further. The smile slipped from her face as she stopped and rested a hand on her hip, her eyes brooking no argument as she stared at her red-headed friend.

"That is all she did though, right?" Willow stood still and shook under Buffy's gaze, before she found some strength of will, her back straightening as she stood tall and met Buffy's eyes with her own.

"Not entirely. I-Morrigain had a very twisted sense of humor. Thankfully she left the spell to reverse what she did, but it will take a bit of time to unlock it." Willow paused for a moment in thought. "Huh, you know it's almost like one of those games Xander likes to play, with all the leveling and unlocking and, ooh, hey, we're kind of like the characters out of the game, with the questing and the slaying of evil and all that. Hmm, I wonder if we should try checking the vampires out for gold and loot before we stake them. Ooh, and I bet I could make a killing in making potions and selling them to people, though I don't really want to run people out of their jobs, but it would help and maybe keep people from dying and-" Willow was cut off as Buffy placed a hand over her mouth, her half-closed eyes giving her far-too-talkative friend a quiet look.

Once she was sure that the message had been received and understood, Buffy removed her hand and let Willow breathe for a moment, before the redhead picked up from where she had verged off on her tangent.

"Um, as I was saying, Morrigain kind of saw Xander hitting on Dawn and considering what happened to the last guy she met who acted that way, she was pretty light on him." Buffy sighed and rubbed tiredly at the bridge of her nose, the action causing to Willow to pause.

"Please, just tell me how bad it is already, I have a headache the size of the universe blowing up in my head right now, and my sister is still out cold from whatever the hell happened, we've all got a bunch of memories from really nasty people, and I still have to figure out a way of explaining everything to mom without being sent back to the asylum again. Is it fine, ungood, double-plus-ungood? What is it?" Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise as yet another little memory made itself known. "Huh, who knew Orwell sold his soul so he could complete his last book before he died." They pair exchanged shrugs before falling silent once again, Willow tentatively tapping her fingers together as she stared at the ground in front of her feet.

"Well, she hit him with a, err, a, well, a slow-acting mumble-mumble curse." Buffy began to open her mouth to respond to Willow's statement, only to freeze as the insanity of the concept of what Morrigain had done registered in her mind. Willow continued on, enjoying the sight of her friend gaping as she had her turn in charge, something that she was enjoying immensely. "I'm just surprised that she was actually able to manipulate and understand magic well enough that she reverse engineered Jusenkyo in order to create improved versions of her own basic transformation and polymorphic spells, since hers weren't permanent and all."

That snapped Buffy's mind back to reality as she grabbed her redheaded friend by the shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. "Permanent? You hit Xander with a permanent curse? And you aren't even worried about it? Are you insane?" Willow frowned as she shrugged off Buffy's hands, her eyes darting over to where Xander had stopped, just outside of the range of his hearing.

"Hey, don't forget, that wasn't me who did that. And I'll have you know that all of her magic is reversible with the right spell and enough power, I just need to learn it, alright?" Buffy took a deep breath and nodded grimly. The corner of Willow's mouth twitched upwards into a half-smile that seemed strange on the girl. "Now come on, Giles is going to want to know about this, and the sooner we tell him, the sooner we can find a way of fixing things."

The pair shared looks and exchanged subtle nods as they headed over to Xander. The teen raised a silvered brow as they approached and passed him, his armour shaking and rattling as he fell into step behind them.

"So, what was that about? You guys looked like you were about to start wrestling each other right then and there, and while the idea is good, the location definitely needs work, I mean it's always, always done in a mud-pit. Or with pudding. Pudding or gelatin works too. Of course clothing would be optiona-" Xander paused as he noticed the burning glares his words earned him, inwardly and outwardly cringing at the disapproving frown on Willow's face. Buffy rolled her eyes as she pushed pas t him.

"If you must know, it was a little bit of girl talk. Happy?" Xander nodded his head quickly, as he tried to refrain from shuddering with the still unconscious body in his hands, the weight in his arms serving to remind him once again why they were heading back towards the source of almost all the misery in their lives.

"Absolutely. Man, am I happy I don't have to worry about stuff like that." Xander closed his eyes and whistled happily to himself, completely unaware of the wide-eyed looks the two conscious female members of the Scoobies exchanged behind his back. A slight chill ran down Xander's spine, to which he simply shrugged off as due to the unusually cold October air.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, getting into the school wasn't too hard to do, as there were still quite a few teachers and students around with their young charges. Sneaking past them hadn't been too difficult, as they had all been distracted by the scattered pockets of small children, most of whom were missing the older students and teachers they had been sent out with. Of course the added difficulty posed by Buffy's unconscious younger sister proved slightly hazardous, the group almost getting caught by Principal Snyder twice as he furiously stomped his way through the school, but they nevertheless made it to the relatively safe haven of the library in one piece, more or less.

Xander opened the door, his armored boot flashing out and impacting the wood with a solid kick that sent the door spinning on its hinges into the wall, Giles jumped out his seat in surprise at the intrusion and sudden loud noise. Seeing who was entering he relaxed slightly and eased himself back into his chair as he pulled off his glasses to begin polishing them.

"Excuse me Xander, but how many times have I had to remind that this is, in fact, a library, and that no matter what we may be doing here most of the time, it is still considered common courtesy to be quiet?" Xander paused at the door, his brow furrowed in thought, while Buffy and Willow moved past him to find their own seats.

"Huh, I actually don't know. At least ten times or so by now probably," the silver-haired teen said as he gently placed Buffy's comatose sister onto an empty table.

"And that is nine times too ma- Good Lord! Is that Dawn?" The Watcher's eyes almost popped from their sockets as he finally recognized the severely changed figure that had been carried into the library in Xander's arms. He swept his gaze across his at once familiar yet foreign charges, confusion written across his face as he polished his glasses with renewed intensity.

"What the bloody hell, pardon my language, happened to you?" The teens shared looks before Buffy stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture as she tried to calm the Watcher down.

"We kinda ran into a bit of trouble, don't worry, it was just the usual. Some guy rolled into town, set up shop, and sold a truckload of Halloween costumes cursed to cause the wearer to become what they purchased." The former Slayer turned fledgling Mistress of Hell shrugged and offered Giles a sheepish smile. "So, you know, nothing major."

The teens had to fight to keep their amusement from showing as Giles performed an admirable imitation of a fish out of water, his jaw working soundlessly as he tried to put his thoughts into words.

"I-bu-it-who?" The teens shared another set of amused looks, and this time it was Willow who stepped forwards to answer. Giles was quite nearly being rendered senseless as he tried to reconcile the taller, though only by an inch or so, much more confident young woman in front of him with the shy and meek girl who he had seen leave the school a scant few hours earlier.

"We don't know, but we figure it was whoever owned the place where we got our costumes." Willow raised a hand to forestall the question on Giles' tongue. "I know what you're going to ask, but no, we don't know who he is or what he looks like, we only met with the assistant. If it helps though, the shop was called Ethan's."

Giles' eyes went hard as his hands reflexively clenched at the reminder of his old friend. The evening certainly had all the hallmarks of one of Ethan's misguided pranks, from the chaos it caused to the subtle and none-too-amusing irony of people becoming their costumes, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on the chaos mage's skinny little throat for putting a spell on his charges.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. His anger would do him no good if he didn't know where to find Ethan, and it would only encourage the man more, since Giles had no doubt that Ethan was fully aware that the Watcher had been posted to the Hellmouth and who his charges were. While he despised the man for all he represented, Giles still had to admit, however deeply hidden it was, that Ethan was quite intelligent and crafty, even if his energies were all devoted to less admirable pursuits.

"And where can I find this, Ethan's? I would rather like to meet the man who engineered this evening so that I may teach him some much deserved manners." Giles' tone was cold and Buffy raised a single brow in surprise at the amount of venom underlying his words.

"No point in going there now," Willow said as she perused Giles' personal collection of books, the Watcher giving a surprised blink as he realized the girl had somehow slipped past him without him noticing. Seeing his curious look she continued. "I mean, if he had even the smallest idea of just what he was unleashing, he'd have been out of Sunnydale the moment he finished casting the spell."

"Oh, and what did you three - pardon me, four- " Giles corrected himself as he remembered just who was lying on the table. " Happen to dress as this evening?"

Xander sighed and gave his friends a rather dejected look, a look that Giles didn't fail to miss, before speaking first. "Arthas Menethil, the former heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Lordaeron."

"Former heir?"

Xander closed his eyes as his face twisted in pain. "Yeah, former. Arthas got screwed over big time, course, the guy who got him had been messed up himself pretty bad. He was a paladin, kind of like the Knights Templar in the Crusades but with full holy powers backing him up, and his kingdom was invaded by a plague of undead. The guy who was controlling everything was a Big Bad made by even Bigger Bads by the name of Ner'zhul." Xander paused and gave Buffy an amused smile. "Course they aren't nearly as major as Hild is, but they're still pretty bad."

"He made some deal that didn't work out, and when he tried to escape the Really Big Bads trapped his soul in a chunk of ice that they placed on a frozen wasteland in the ocean north of Lordaeron. Arthas didn't have a clue, but when Ner'zhul got tossed into the world, he used his magicy-ness to split off a portion of his prison, as well a section of his consciousness, and placed it where he knew Arthas would eventually be lead to find it."

The teen paused and rubbed his forehead tiredly, Buffy giving him a sad smile as she placed a hand gently on his arm. "Ner'zhul was used as the hive-mind for an undead collective known as the Scourge. From Northrend he was able to stretch out his mind and give commands anywhere the plague used to spread the undeath was, since the plague itself used some of the magic that bound Ner'zhul to the mortal realm. He wasn't too successful until one of his cults - cults which had an unfortunately large number of people, most of whom joined in search of the immortality the cult offered - recruited a rather disillusioned archmage by the name of Kel'Thuzad."

"Once he joined the Cult of the Damned, his plots lead directly to the downfall of several towns, and the complete destruction and execution of the city of Stratholme and all its inhabitants at Arthas' hands. One hundred and thirty seven thousand people died that day." Giles' jaw dropped in shock, Xander giving him a bitter half-smile before continuing on. "And that was only the beginning of the nightmare."

"Between him and Ner'zhul, Arthas was hit by a metric ton of manipulations - Stratholme only the first blow - as well as magical and psychic whispers and implanted thoughts directing him towards darkness. He-" Xander broke off abruptly, unable to properly continue.

The library was silent, only the occasional shout or child's cry coming from beyond the closed doors to the school, as Giles and the other teens digested Xander's story. Willow was feeling a strange mix of emotions: angry at the person who was causing Xander such torment, guilt that she couldn't think of a way to help him, and a confused respect towards a man willing to go to such lengths, even if his purpose was misguided. Giles was still trying to come to grips with the fact that Xander had the memories of a man who had the blood of countless innocents on his hands. Buffy was completed unbothered by it all; Hild's memories contained far worse than anything Xander or anyone else could imagine. Hild had put entire worlds, entire _galaxies _to the torch, mostly through her manipulations and subordinates, but sometimes with her own magic.

Xander finally recovered enough to continue, though his voice was hoarse and quiet. "He was lead right into Ner'zhul's hands; in order to save his people, he needed a weapon capable of killing the demon he thought was behind the Scourge. '_Whomsoever takes up this blade shall wield power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit.' _He really should have turned back right then and there, but instead he found a sword strong enough to slay a demon, and all it cost him was his soul, his eventual humanity, and the lives of all those who had stood beside him and in his path."

Before anyone could respond to his words, Xander grabbed the hilt of the sheathed blade at his hip, the blade pulling free with the echoing ring of steel on steel. Pulling it up in front of his face, the silver-haired teen froze in shock. To his side Buffy stared incredulously at the midnight black blade, the metal seeming to draw in all the light that fell upon on it.

"Ymir's breath," Buffy whispered into the silence, "do you have any idea what you're holding?"

Xander turned and gave his friend a confused look, noting the awe on her face for something to rib her with later. Buffy spared him a momentary glance before returning to stare at the sword.

"That's Dragnipur, it was forged countless millennia with the blood of Mother Dark by her consort, the Elder God Draconus, it's the only weapon capable of slaying Ascended beings, and it doesn't just kill them, it traps their souls inside a pocket dimension within the blade." She shook herself visibly and tried to recover, though her eyes remained filled with a dancing energy. "Hild had seen it destroyed, but I guess whoever was behind Ner'zhul gathered the shards and reforged them. Whatever happened to us must have made it the way it was. That is so cooool."

The others just stared at her blankly, Buffy flicking her eyes from one pair of eyes to the next in confusion. "What, was it something I said?"

Willow smiled and shook her head in amusement. "If you don't know why now, then I doubt explaining it will make things any better. Anyway, I ended up going as one of the two students to the witch-queen Baba Yaga, " Willow paused as thunder crashed loudly above the school, a rather odd occurrence since the sky had been practically cloudless when they had arrived. Giles gave a small sigh in relief. While Baba Yaga had been, and still was, an incredible thorn in the side of the Council, she spent most of her time wandering dimensions far away from Earth, and thus they were content to leave her alone. They weren't aware that she had taken on any students however, though it wasn't too surprising considering they had records of her existence predating the rise of Egypt.

"She had a lot, a lot of names over time, which is kinda neat, but a lot of them were really similar, so," Willow shook her head to stop herself from babbling on. "She was most well known, at least to modern times, as Morgan La Fey, though she before that she was the Morrigain, using her magic to play all three of the trio of goddesses. Of course, she kind of had help considering the fact she usurped Hel's throne in the Norse pantheon, thanks to Hild, though I'm pretty sure she still regrets making that deal."

Buffy snorted derisively. "That's an understatement. She and Hild got along worse than me and Cordelia on our worst days. Didn't help that she killed Hild's granddaughter (1) and set herself up to avoid ever getting punished for it."

Giles gave Buffy a curious look while Willow offered up a shrug as she returned to perusing the book she had found. "Excuse me, but all three of you have referred to this Hild, and I find myself at a loss to her identity, though I have my suspicions. Could you please tell me who she is?"

Buffy offered Giles a smug smirk as he felt his heart at once leap into his mouth and fall out of his chest.

"The Daimakaichō Hild is the single most powerful evil entity in the multiverse. She is the Allfather's equal and opposite, and she rules over Nifelheim, the dark reflection of the heavenly realm of Asgard." She couldn't help but laugh at the terrified expression on Giles' face as he snapped his glasses.

"Oh, and you're looking at the heir to her position and powers."

* * *

When Dawn awoke, it was to an endless expanse of nothing. It was not white, nor was it black, it was simply devoid of _anything_. She had found, after several hours, that she could move as if she was walking, though she wasn't sure if she was actually moving or if her mind was simply producing the illusion of movement, and she wandered around for days, or so it felt to her.

For a while she had simply stood in the emptiness in shock, as she had looked down upon herself and found a stranger's body in place of her own. The memories hadn't helped much, and she didn't want or need to remember all the various ways Ulrika had been brainwashed by her mother and superior officers. And the things she did still caused Dawn to shudder. There were things done in the Millenium labs, experiments that should have never been imagined let alone attempted, and she found that the emptiness around her was a comfort, much more so than the nightmares hiding in her mind waiting for her to close her eyes.

And so, to distract herself, she had simply begun to walk. She pondered her own memories while she wandered, the revelation of the existence of the darker side of the world giving whole new meaning to things she had simply shrugged off or been told to ignore, oftentimes by her own sister.

Her sister. That was another topic that consumed a great deal of her focus. She knew who she had gone as, the benefits of having a working knowledge of the internet combined with an interest in Japanese mangas and anime, and if Buffy had gone through the same thing she had, then she wasn't sure if she wanted to wake up any time soon. Not if Hild was still in control of her sister's body. And thoughts of her sister lead to thoughts of her mother, and questions as to how much she was aware of, and how she would react to what had happened to Dawn.

Dawn was so distracted by her thoughts that she failed to notice the nothing that surrounded her become something. The sound of shoe heels clicking against stone brought her out her reverie. Her eyes widened in surprise as she found herself walking down a corridor lined with doors of all shapes and sizes, the hall stretching on in either direction distantly beyond her vision. She tried to open some of the doors but gave up after finding them all locked. Without nothing else for her to do, she continued walking onwards, her hands grasping for a weapon that wasn't there.

Suddenly, between one step and the next, a large oaken desk appeared in the center of the corridor a few meters in front of her. Her body locked up in surprise, her muscles tensing in preparation to fight or flee. A pair of hands held up a newspaper written in a language and text that Dawn couldn't make out while its owner sat behind the desk. She idly noticed a small sign hanging off the corner of the desk written in English.

_Out for a bite, oh that's real funny._ Dawn closed her eyes and took in a deep, calming breath. While she wasn't entirely sure, the situation she found herself in had all the hallmarks of a certain being's rather twisted sense of humor, and considering who she had decided to dress as, she wouldn't be surprised to find him sitting behind the desk, especially given the flashes of crimson she occasionally caught as the paper moved.

She stood there quietly for several minutes watching the pages of the newspaper turn, its reader never revealing himself while he did so, her nerves slowly growing tenser as the time passed. The man behind the desk gave a start at some unheard signal, the paper in his hands rustling as he folded it up and set it down on the desk. Dawn swallowed loudly as she received her first look at the man behind the desk.

Just as she had thought, the man was tall and strong, though he was built more like a runner than a weight builder, his muscles wiry and built more for speed. His face possessed an aristocratic handsomeness to it that would have many girls, and women, streaming to his door in hopes of catching sight of him, until one looked more closely. Eyes a deep crimson, eyes filled with a terrible cruelty and madness, set above a feral grin filled with more teeth than should have possibly fit in a human's mouth, and each one a bestial fang made for tearing flesh.

Her mouth felt dryer than the Californian sun had ever made her feel as her mind finally grasped the fact that Alucard himself, the most horrifying and, though she would only admit it within her own mind and never aloud, darkly attractive monsters she had ever heard of. (2) His every movement, even when he stood still, breathed a controlled menace and violence that caused her gut to twist into knots.

_Why does my body suddenly feel so hot?_ She wondered, the strange feelings stirring inside her unusual, outside of the times when she was daydreaming about Xander. She knew he had saved her sister from something, considering her recent revelations it was entirely possible that it was some horrible fate, and that had only served to endear the teen to her more. He, outside of Willow or her mother, was the only person she knew that treated her as an intelligent young adult rather than a fragile child that would break at the first glance at reality. She felt something wet trickle down her leg and she couldn't help but worry if Alucard's presence had caused her bladder to loosen, though it certainly didn't feel like such a thing had occurred.

And from the way Alucard's grin seemed to stretch wider she was reasonably sure that he could read her thoughts. Which, while irritating, shouldn't have been possible, as he could only access the minds of those with which he shared a connection, such as Integra via the Command Seals ingrained into his very being, or Seras since she was his...

Alucard chuckled darkly as realization struck the girl like the furious fists of an entire pantheon of gods. He stood up and walked around the desk, his eyes staying focused on Dawn as he circled her, studying her as a sculptor would his latest work. He stopped in front of her, and Dawn unconsciously stood taller, trying her hardest to hide the sheer terror she was feeling. From the look in Alucard's eyes she obviously wasn't successful enough, and yet he still looked oddly proud. She blinked and when she reopened her eyes, Alucard had vanished from her sight.

"Imagine my surprise," she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Alucard's slow drawl, the barest hint of his original accent teasing at his origins, coming from behind her. "When I woke up this morning to find one of my familiars missing, and another Childe's connection to myself." She could feel his breath, cold just as his body was, race across the back of her neck, teasingly curling around the tip of her ear. "A Childe I do not remember making, and one who is so similar to my missing pet. Imagine it. "She felt herself shudder slightly, and Alucard's presence retreated slightly.

"Now, what to do with you I wonder?" Dawn shuddered again, and this time it had nothing to do with any physical sensation. She recognized the tone of voice Alucard was using; it was the same one he had when he was debating methods of killing people with his master, or ways of tempting said master to join him in his unlife.

His eyes stared at her from the shadows, a dozen, a hundred, a thousand crimson pupils focused unblinkingly. She didn't bother looking behind her, she could already tell that Alucard was no longer there, but rather all around her. She could no longer see anything except for the shadow-stuff that comprised Alucard's body, the corridor having disappeared into the darkness. She idly wondered if the corridor had ever even existed in the first place, or if it had simply been another of Alucard's manipulations. The Nosferatu held a disdain for illusions, much preferring to meet his opponent on relatively even ground and face to face, but with his many centuries of existence he possessed, he had learned more things than any mortal could ever know.

"I suppose I could kill you," his voice sounded out from all around her, "but that would be such a waste. You and I are connected, stronger than even the chains that bind me to my Master." Cruel laughter filled the air, the sound chilling Dawn to her core. "I will be watching, little Eclipse. Show me something worthwhile, something that proves you're worthy of my gift."

Dawn cursed, unaware of the thick German accent that rolled off her tongue, as the shadow's around her swallowed her up. The last sight she had before darkness claimed her entirely, was of Alucard grinning his twisted grin at her.

"Entertain me Childe. Entertain me."

* * *

The library was suddenly filled with the sound of a ringing alarm clock, breaking off the argument between Slayer and Watcher before it could become too loud, as the conscious members of the party looked around for the source of the noise. Unfortunately, the ringing seemed to be coming from almost all directions at once, and not even a simple locator spell from Willow could identify the origin. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the sound ceased, and in the silence left behind by the alarm's absence, there came a quiet groan.

Buffy was the first to move, her hurried steps nearly causing her to trip and fall several times as she pushed past her friends and the various inanimate objects in her way to her sister's side. Dawn's eyes blinked open and Buffy forced a hand to her mouth to stifle the gasp of shock that threatened to escape it. She knew that they had all been changed by the night's events, but she had held some distant hope that perhaps the worst that had been done to her sister was that she had simply gained a few years, nothing too horrible, but she should have known better; she was never that lucky.

"No." Buffy whimpered quietly as she took a shaking step back from the startling crimson eyes as the creature that had replaced her sister sat up on the table, a confused and hurt expression on her face. "No, no nonononono, why you, why, I can't..." She took another step back and collapsed to her knees, tears running freely down her face. Willow was by her side in an instant, holding the sobbing Slayer to her chest while Xander stood stone-faced over them. He studied Dawn carefully, and maybe it was part of Arthas' legacy as the Lich King, but he found something in her eyes and he smiled, his worries assuaged by the innocence he found there.

Giles gave Dawn one look, taking in the eyes and protruding fangs, before he reached underneath his desk and retrieved the small crossbow he kept there. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever his old friend had done, it had cursed his charge's young sister to a fate far worse than death, and all he could do was make sure that she didn't go after her family. Although he did have a few doubts on whether or not a vampire could actually turn the Slayer now that she had been changed.

The crossbow bucked in his hands - he hadn't bother sighting it, rather he simply fired from the hip, at such a short range accuracy was assured - and the small wood bolt hissed through the air before entering Dawn's heart with a wet slap. Buffy's sobs stopped instantly as everyone in the library froze, their eyes moving from a stunned Giles to where Dawn tentatively poked the tail of the crossbow bolt sticking out of her chest. She grasped it tightly in her hand, her faced fixed in a grimace of pain, as she pulled the bolt free in a spray of blood.

She gave her sister and her friends a curious look. "Uh, that isn't supposed to happen, is it?"

The teens were too shocked to do anything more than nod, causing Dawn to sigh. "Makes sense, Father was never one to play by the rules, it's hardly surprising that even his existence as a vampire was different than any other." She looked down to where the gaping wound was already stitching itself shut with black shadow-like threads, the sight causing her to smile toothlessly. It looked like she might have more in common with Alucard than just being of his blood.

"On the other hand, at least my soul has survived the evening intact. I was half expecting Rip van Winkle's possession to have done some major damage, but it looks I got off pretty lucky."

She didn't even see Buffy move, one second she had been staring at Dawn from her knees with bleary eyes, the next she was holding Dawn up by her shirt, a shirt that Dawn was pleased to see was filled out rather nicely.

"Lucky? You call getting turned into an Odin-cursed Vampire Lucky?" Dawn began to look panicked as Buffy shook with each word. Buffy looked into her sister's eyes and let go of her as if she was a venomous snake, her eyes staring at her hands as if they had betrayed her. She began to shake again, the tremors running through her entire body, only this time, instead of Willow comforting her, she found herself wrapped up in Dawn's eyes, crimson drops staining her cheeks.

Buffy turned her eyes to Giles, seeing the Watcher sitting on his desk with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hands and no glass in sight, the crossbow once again placed out of sight. "G-Giles, what the hell is happening to us?" She cursed herself as her voice came out sounding just as shaken as she felt. She was the Slayer, she wasn't supposed to be some easily scared little girl, although she had to admit that a good portion of Hild's memories were down-right terrifying.

Giles stared at the four irrevocably altered teenagers in turn, his eyes lingering for several moments on each before moving to the next, before he took another swig from the bottle.

"I don't know. Give me a couple of days to run through my books and check out Ethan's shop, and I'll see what I can do. The best thing for you all is to head home and get some sleep. Who knows, maybe this is all temporary and will be gone by morning." Giles tried to force a smile as he tried to lighten the atmosphere, only for it to whither and die a quick death as the teens dejectedly dragged themselves out of the library.

"This time my old friend, you've gone too far." His eyes drifted to the sight of Dawn as she closed the library door behind her. "Too bloody far."

* * *

The Scoobies had split up after leaving the library, Xander heading towards his home with a smirk as he considered just how greatly his father was going to end up surprised by his newfound muscles and skills, Willow skipping homewards as she remembered that her parents were out of town for a conference and she would be able to experiment until they returned. The last pair headed home with their nerves racking them as they argued over how they were to break the news to their mother about everything concerning the evening, as well as the Hellmouth they inadvertently found themselves living over.

Reaching their street, they held a momentary glimmer of hope that their mother might not have returned from her evening party yet, only to be disappointed by the sight of their mother's car parked in the drive and the lights on in the kitchen. They debated for a moment on whether or not they should simply find a hotel to stay in for the night, considering the option until they remembered they had no money available for such an expense. Steeling their spines, they shared a quick laugh at the absurdity of the fact that they, with all the horrifying and terrifying memories of their costumed personas, were scared of being confronted by their mother.

Just as Buffy reached down to grasp the doorknob, it slid out of her grasp as the door swung open silently and, as evidenced by the absence of anyone on the other side, autonomously. The two Summers sisters shared nervous looks before cautiously heading inside. They didn't bother reacting as the door slammed shut behind them. Entering the kitchen, the only place in the house which appeared to have any working lights, they found their mother, still dressed in the same deep purple evening gown she had left in.

As their mother turned, as if having sensed their presence, the sisters noted that her hair seemed to be much darker and longer than it usually was, though it might have simply been a play of the light. Both of them flinched at the look in their mother's eyes, eyes that they incredulously found to be an amethyst several shades darker than Buffy's own altered color. The light in the kitchen glinted off the plain silver choker around her neck and the large oval aquamarine beryl gemstone embedded in the metal.

"You two," Dawn flinched back as myriad small azure flames manifested in the air behind her mother's shoulders. Buffy's eyes widened as Hild's memories supplied her with the identity of the only other person with such and ability. Joyce looked between the two and sighed, the anger leaving her body with her breath, though the flames remained. "You two are going to explain what happened to me, and then you are going to explain - in painstaking detail - why my ten year old daughter appears to be have had her sixteenth birthday already."

Buffy sighed and rubbed tiredly at the bridge of her nose. _Why, _she wondered to herself as she sat down at the table across from her mother, _why didn't I save the carpal tunnel excuse._

* * *

Omake #1, or, An explanation as to Spike's Absence.

"Well, isn't this-" Spike's statement was cut off as he abruptly dived for cover behind a nearby trashcan, his slower moving minions catching the full brunt of the shockwave of razor sharp icicles, some larger than Spike was, the alley quickly and quietly becoming filled with a slowly settling cloud of ash-colored snowflakes. Spike shakily got to his feet and gave the pair of dueling magic users one quick look before retreating back to his lair, muttering as he went.

"Bloody hell. And here I was thinking that I'd left all those crazy witches behind with the turn of the nineteenth century. Bugger what Dru said about the Slayer, it isn't worth it."

And that was arguably the smartest thing the vampire known as Spike ever did in his entire existence. Well, maybe the second, after making sure to skip off to Mexico to wait out World War Two, though that was mostly because Drusilla had wanted to see the pyramids rather than an actual awareness of the unfolding situation, but he did make sure to stay there once everything went to hell. He didn't get to his age without learning when to cut his losses and run.

* * *

Omake #2, or, No-one is that stupid... right?

"I'm telling you, not even Harmony is that stupid! I wouldn't spend my time with someone like that, no matter how good it made me look in comparison." Heads turned to see the somewhat unusual sight of the Queen of the school arguing with one of the dregs, or, as he was known according to most unaware of just who helped to keep them safe from the darker aspects of Sunnydale. Those who were aware considered him a hero, and more than few girls would have tried dating him in a heartbeat, if Cordelia hadn't made it clear that associating with him or his friends would be social suicide. Of course, that was before Halloween, as afterwards, well, pretty much every student agreed that the group of friends had certainly become many, many degrees hotter. Somewhat similar to going from the heating element in a toaster to the fusion furnace in the center of a star.

Xander smiled as he shook his head, his silver-grey hair tumbling and flowing in a way that sent several nearby young girls rushing off to the washroom, and one guy as well, though no-one noticed. To be fair, Xander had slowly become more and more, as any fan of Japanese entertainment would tell you, bishonen in appearance, which had the unintended -though perhaps it was actually what Morrigain had in mind when she cursed him- side-effect of causing lots of conflicted feelings within both the male and female populace of Sunnydale High.

"Well, it looks like you're gonna get your chance, here she comes." Cordelia raised a delicate brow and turned to find her cheerleader compatriot coming towards them. She began to open her mouth, most likely to ask why Cordelia was wasting her time on Xander, but was beaten to the punch as Cordelia spoke up.

"Listen closely Harm, I need to settle a bet with Tweedle Dum over here. Now then, which is closer Harm, the moon, or Florida?"

Cordelia winced and grew redder and redder by the second as Harmony took her time to think over the simple and obvious question. Her face began to brighten as Harmony opened her mouth to answer.

"Hellooooo, the moon of course. I mean you can't see Florida."

For a moment not even the crickets chirped as everyone listening were rendered mute with shock at Harmony's answer. The wordless sound of pure rage and agony that was ripped from Cordelia's throat would forever engrave itself on the minds of those who heard it as the most horrifyingly beautiful thing they had ever heard.

And so grew the legend of Xander Harris, the New King of Sunnydale High.

If only they knew...

* * *

Omake #3, or, I really **HATE **Twilight, for ruining vampires. Honestly, before they used to be awesome and terrible, like the ones from Buffy, or better yet, Hellsing. Long Live Hellsing! Long (Un)Live Alucard! Carpe Noctem! (... I seriously need to get out more.)

"So let me get this straight, you're a vampire?" Dawn couldn't help but stare incredulously at the teen who had walked up to her from out of the blue, introducing himself as Edward something or other, Dawn hadn't been paying much attention past the point where he had introduced himself as a vampire.

"Yes, and I can tell that you are also a vampire, though you seem to be of a lineage I am unfamiliar with." Dawn's lips quirked upwards, revealing her protruding fangs, as she agreed with his gross understatement. Wearing the plain runners she usually did, she still stood as tall, if not taller, than most men she met, and between her long indigo hair, her pale skin with its light dusting of freckles, and her piercing crimson eyes, she possessed an exotic beauty only her mother or sister could hope to match.

As she stood there, the overcast sky began to clear, forcing Dawn to retrieve her parasol. The other vampire merely cocked his head to the side as the sun shone through. The light hit his skin, and three seconds later his body hit the ground in countless pieces, none larger than a finger. Dawn stared unblinkingly at the bloody smear on the street as the sky clouded over once more, thunder booming as rain began to fall and wash away the last traces of the hideous, horrifying mockery of a vampire that had dared think itself anything close to Dawn's equal in status. Even the demonic vampires knew better than that.

She heard a terrified scream and turned to find a young woman, obviously with child considering her swollen belly, and she was staring at the gory mess on the ground. At first Dawn that thought that it was merely a reaction to the scene, she _was _quite frightening as she stood in front of the component parts of a corpse with its blood soaking her sleeves. But tapping into her vampiric senses she noticed something interesting. She looked back and forth between the hysterical woman and the corpse before coming to a decision.

Moments later another shattered body hit the pavement, the blood washing away in the rain.

* * *

Ok, that last omake got a little dark there. Sorry bout that, but I seriously can't stand hearing, let alone seeing, that series.

(1) Hild, based on my understanding, flawed as it most likely is, was once Freya/Frigga, Odin's wife, and thus the mother of Urd (in Oh My Goddess canon), Baldr, Loki, and Hodr.

(2) *Looks around innocently* What? I mean, she did fall in with Spike, and Buffy was dating Angel... is it too much of a stretch for _both _the girls to have some sort of kink for dead guys?

... I'm going to go smack myself for that, be right back... Sorry, but it had to be said. Now, on with the note.

And yes. I did _that_ to Xander. I mean come on; have you read a single one of my stories that hasn't had _that_ to one extent or another? I'm not sure why it seems so intriguing an idea to me, but hey, I got my quirks you got yours, you don't hear me raging about them. And before you get on my case about it, it isn't permanent, or at least, it won't be once Willow unlocks the spell of reversal that is. ;)

Yes, Joyce ended up with a dress courtesy of Whistler, which means that yes, she was possessed too. I'll even offer a little hint: she is a major villainess from a classic anime, though this version is taken from a bit into the series' backstory. I also put in a major, major clue as to her identity. There is a reward for whoever gets it right first.


End file.
